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		<title>Little by little, I will reclaim my sanity, inner peace, and balance. &lt;https://y.st./en/weblog/2017/03-March/26.xhtml&gt;</title>
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		<header>
			<h1>Little by little, I will reclaim my sanity, inner peace, and balance.</h1>
			<p>Day 00750: <time>Sunday, 2017 March 26</time></p>
		</header>
<section id="general">
	<h2>General news</h2>
	<p>
		I tried to renew my domain name today, but Visa decided to screw with me with their Verified by Visa system.
		I&apos;ve used Verified by Visa before with my credit union credit card, so maybe the problem isn&apos;t actually coming from Visa&apos;s end; it could be coming from Chase&apos;s end.
		I tried to get help from a Chase representative, but the bank&apos;s website wouldn&apos;t provide help unless I logged in, but also refused to <strong>*let*</strong> me log in.
		I figured I&apos;d need to talk to a representative in-branch later, which turned out to be half true.
	</p>
	<p>
		Next, I bought some custom lanyards.
		I&apos;ve been saving up for them for a while.
		This transaction went smoothly, as the lanyard merchant doesn&apos;t use Verified by Visa.
		Later in the day, they emailed me with an even better offer.
		They catch is that they didn&apos;t know where to reach me until after my initial transaction with them and the new deal doesn&apos;t cancel the initial order.
		To take advantage of their better deal, I have to place a second order.
		The minimum order on the first transaction will leave me with more lanyards than I know what to do with though.
		I don&apos;t need a second order of them too.
	</p>
	<p>
		The results of a Web search indicated I&apos;d need to contact my specific bank to sign up for Verify by Visa.
		Perhaps registering for that would allow me to get past the error and prevent the bank from declining the transaction.
		I looked up how to register for Verified by Visa through my bank, and was lead to a page on the bank&apos;s website with a non-hyperlink Web address that supposedly allowed registration.
		However, I only reached a page saying &quot;General error occurred.&quot;
		I tried again to log into by bank account online, as several hours had past since my initial attempt, and this time, it worked.
		I spoke asynchronously with a bank representative, who demanded I telephone a specific number to have the issue resolved.
		I explained that I have no telephone service.
		Now that SafeLink&apos;s dropped me, it isn&apos;t even the usual lie to get businesses to allow other contact methods as they should, but the actual truth.
		I explained I could reach them via the Web, email, or in branch, but not via telephone, and they replied that I should visit them in-branch.
		That surprised me quite a bit!
		Usually, when companies are adamant that I reach them via telephone, they don&apos;t seem to take &quot;no&quot; for an answer until I push back for several days or call their bluff by taking a somewhat drastic but reasonable action.
		In particular, financial institutions seem to have an incredibly strong tie to the telephone system, which is worrying.
		While we want our financial institutions to use the highest forms of security available, they require some transactions occur over the telephone system, an inherently insecure channel.
	</p>
	<p>
		As an example of a drastic, reasonable action that get financial institutions to behave reasonably, I had to to ask a branch representative at Oregon Community Credit Union to close my credit card account with the credit union.
		They sent me a card in the mail with instructions on how to activate it via telephone.
		They didn&apos;t provide a way to activate online.
		So what did I do?
		I walked the card into my local branch and asked them to activate it for me.
		They refused.
		They told me I&apos;d need to get ahold of a telephone somehow, perhaps borrowing one, and activate it via telephone.
		I again explained I didn&apos;t have access to any telephones, but they stubbornly refused to acknowledge the fact that not having telephone service is a completely valid choice to make.
		Having done all I otherwise could, i explained that a card I couldn&apos;t activate was of zero value to me, which was something even they could comprehend.
		Then I asked them to close the credit card account.
		That got them to change their tune!
		They&apos;d rather help me in-branch than lose a card holder!
		And help me activate the card in-branch the did.
	</p>
	<p>
		Today was laundry day, so I washed my work uniforms and other clothing.
		I thought I should&apos;ve used the time spent waiting for the laundry cycles to complete to write up the beginnings of my journal entry for the day, but instead, I worked on sorting and organizing my home.
		The entryway was full of my belongings, still packed.
		That&apos;s also the only reasonable place to store my bike.
		I planned to keep it against the entryway wall, and I did at first, but it was too much of a pain to get it arround everything each day.
		I started stashing it in the middle of the entryway, then working around it all the time.
		I&apos;ve cleaned up the entryway now though, as well as rearranged my bedroom a bit to accommodate most of the stuff from the entryway.
		Much of it was clothing bins and my underwear drawers, both of which I&apos;d rather have in the bedroom anyway.
		I also donated several things, including some old candle jars and two pairs of leather shoes.
		I inherited those shoes from Cyrus, I&apos;m almost certain.
		I&apos;m sure they weren&apos;t mine, but Cyrus claims they&apos;re not theirs either, so when Cyrus escaped, they ended up with me.
		I can&apos;t wear them though, obviously, because we vegans don&apos;t wear corpse skin on our feet.
	</p>
	<p>
		With laundry done and the entryway clean, I rode over to Chase to get them to fix the Verified by Visa issue, or at least <strong>*try*</strong> to get them to.
		I lost track of time though.
		It&apos;s Sunday.
		They&apos;re not open today!
		It&apos;s such a pain that everyone wants the same days off.
		We could have every business and service conveniently open every day if people would just stager their days off.
	</p>
	<p>
		Chase is in Fred Meyer, Fred Meyer sells groceries and takes credit cards, and I was already there ... so I bought some food to make the trip worthwhile.
		THeir prices are higher than Winco&apos;s, but I&apos;ll never hit the $500 <abbr title="United States Dollars">USD</abbr> mark if I can&apos;t count groceries, especially if I can&apos;t renew my domain name either.
		My rent must be paid by cashier&apos;s cheque, not credit card, so I can&apos;t count that either.
		Seriously: one month&apos;s rent would more than hit the $500 <abbr title="United States Dollars">USD</abbr> target.
	</p>
	<p>
		I&apos;d packed one of those insulated bags given to me by my mother in my backpack, just to make surprise visits to the grocery store more fruitful.
		These things are <strong>*not*</strong> practical on a bike though.
		I need a bike basket or something to make grocery shopping more feasible.
		I&apos;m used to living just a few blocks from the grocery store, but things have changed.
	</p>
	<p>
		Today at work was interesting.
		First, one of my coworkers took on the moniker &quot;Daddy Gummy Bear&quot;.
		I have no idea why, as the Crown of Voices keeps me from hearing most of what my coworkers discuss with one another, but it was quite amusing.
		Later, a strange group came through the drive-through, and one of them kept asking me to please spit on the pizza, sometimes with a bullhorn.
		Just before leaving, they asked &quot;Will you show me your titties?&quot;.
		I don&apos;t think my shift leaders would approve if I decided to accept that request though.
		Later, a group came through, ordered a single pizza, then asked me to write &quot;Quavo&quot; on the box.
		There was only one pizza though, there wasn&apos;t any need to distinguish it from others.
		Or maybe they had other pizzas from my workplace at home?
		I don&apos;t know.
		A customer came in the front wearing a teeshirt printed to look like a Santa Clause suit bearing the text &quot;Does this suit make me look fat?&quot;.
	</p>
	<p>
		Another customer came through the drive-through and asked if I like working here.
		It got me thinking.
		Yes, I like working here.
		I didn&apos;t always like it, but my new, happier attitude is giving me rose-colored glasses in regards to several aspects of life.
		My neck and back aren&apos;t completely better, but they don&apos;t hurt so much any more, so work isn&apos;t so draining as it once was.
		My energy level has improved, compounding that effect.
		It&apos;s nice to get in some human interaction, both with my coworkers and with reasonable customers.
		Some customers are even fun and/or amusing!
		As for the customers that want to be a pain, I don&apos;t give them anything they can use against me.
		As soon as they drive off, they&apos;re out of my life &apos;til they come back.
		I enjoy being here now.
		I mean, sometimes I find myself heading into work not wanting to go quite yet, but it&apos;s not that I don&apos;t want to go in that day, just hat I want a little more time at home first.
		This work is by no means the best, but I do enjoy my work and I do enjoy being here.
	</p>
	<p>
		The shift leaders conspired today to, near the end of the night, stop keeping chicken wings prepared and ready to order.
		As far as I know, neither is against the consumption of chicken, but they do feel bad about the six or so orders of chicken we have to throw out every night.
		I and at least one of my other coworkers appreciated that.
		If anyone wanted chicken, they could still buy it, they&apos;d just need to wait the twenty minutes it takes to cook it.
		Of course, that wouldn&apos;t fly if the head manager were here, but they weren&apos;t.
		I wonder if we can do that again tomorrow and potentially the next day ...
		The head manager has Sundays and Mondays off. They work on Tuesdays, but they don&apos;t <strong>*close*</strong> on Tuesdays, so we might still be able to get away with not wasting chicken then too.
	</p>
	<p>
		Toward the end of the night, I was washing dishes as quickly as I could in our three-basin sink, when one of the shift leaders shoved a pair of trays right in the middle sink where I was working.
		I moved them to the first sink, and they got weird about it.
		They wanted the trays in the middle sink <strong>*now*</strong>, even though the trays were in the way and even though the shift leader wasn&apos;t the one washing dishes.
		That annoyed more than it should have.
		Later, they put away a lid, but they didn&apos;t put it away correctly.
		Normally, I wouldn&apos;t have cared, but I was already annoyed with them, so I moved it to where the other like lids were right away.
		They gave me a funny look, so I explained that this is why I have to organize the lids every day.
		No one puts them away correctly, so they&apos;re always in a jumble until I get there.
		Ostensibly joking, they replied that maybe that&apos;s why I&apos;m here.
		That really ticked me off!
		I&apos;m constantly making up for everyone else&apos;s inadequacies and incompetencies here!
		The shift leader doesn&apos;t even care!
		No one keeps things organized but me.
		No one properly cleans anything, so I&apos;m stuck pouring even more effort into trying to catch up with cleaning.
		Some of it&apos;s an impossible job alone, too.
		For example, we have these metal dough trays.
		They build up with oil and black grime.
		I can&apos;t scrape all the gunk off, as I&apos;ll get told off for taking too long with the dishes.
		Instead, I scrape a little bit off every time I do dishes.
		I should be making progress then, right?
		Wrong.
		There are so many dough trays, so little time, and I&apos;m the only one actually scraping the gunk off.
		As such, the gunk builds up faster than I can clean it.
	</p>
	<p>
		After a bit of thought though, I realized something: that&apos;s <strong>*not*</strong> why I&apos;m here.
		I&apos;m here to make money and to provide a reasonable contribution to the company for the wages I make.
		I&apos;m not paid the same as five other workers; it&apos;s not my job to do the work of five people.
		I will continue to do my best in all areas I don&apos;t do so well at.
		I&apos;ll still continue to do better than my coworkers in the ways I excel.
		However, I&apos;m done pouring everything into a job that doesn&apos;t appreciate me and doesn&apos;t benefit from my efforts.
		Does the store benefit from my trying to clean the pans properly when gunk build up faster than I can clean it?
		No.
		Does the store benefit from my daily organizing when the organization disappears as soon as I leave the store?
		No.
		As long as I&apos;m the only one even trying, none of it will matter.
		Quite frankly, this place and these people don&apos;t deserve me.
		That said, I feel like I owe the head manager something.
		At this point, I&apos;m a great worker that isn&apos;t going to disappear in the near future.
		However, they gave me employment even when I said I&apos;d only be able to stay a month or two.
		That start is a huge part of how I was able to escape my abusive home situation.
		There&apos;s a strong possibility I&apos;ll try to stay until I get my associate&apos;s degree.
		That&apos;ll be about two years worth of good labor from me.
		Besides, as I said, I enjoy being here and I enjoy the work.
		I just need to be a bit less ... neurotic.
		Little by little, I will reclaim my sanity, inner peace, and balance.
	</p>
	<p>
		I feel amazing.
		Today&apos;s been a wonderful day, despite a few bumps in the road.
	</p>
	<p>
		My <a href="/a/canary.txt">canary</a> still sings the tune of freedom and transparency.
	</p>
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